Whew.

The long, strange trip continues...

After returning to London for a short (and wonderfully relaxing) time at Paul's parent's house, we headed north to Scotland for the incredible Edinburgh Festival and a bit of much-needed work, thanks to our friends Ben and Linda... Paul effortlessly pulled off a series of Master Class Pilates workshops and scored us a bit of dosh to fund our return to the UK. We also had the opportunity to catch a few fantastic shows, including the Parisian dance troupe Mambo Chicos (or is it Chicos Mambo?) and the awesome Jewish folk-funk fusion band Moishe's Bagel.

I am currently back in the States, visiting family and friends in Kansas, Missouri, Colorado and Pennsylvania, but will be returning to the UK on 9 October... complete with my fresh Settlement Visa! With the help of a few amazing individuals (you know who you are), Paul and I managed to secure a Civil Partnership visa for me to re-enter the UK with the intent to settle and permanently reside... This is BIG NEWS for us and means we are finally free from endless worries about my visa status... and free to get married! I promise to keep everyone posted about dates and color schemes, but for now, we are just thankful to be able to make Sussex our permanent home without the hassle of immigration issues.

Thanks for reading my blog, posting comments, and keeping in touch. I hope you have enjoyed reading about our trip as much as I've enjoyed documenting it! Contact me anytime and lots of love, Jason x

The trip out of Jodhpur

Having been to Jodhpur a few years ago, I was truly looking forward to revisiting what is (in my opinion) one of the most interesting and travel-friendly cities in India... Before leaving Jaisalmer, I contacted Manesh (the owner of the guesthouse where I had stayed during my last visit) by email and booked a room... Manesh was waiting for us on the platform when we stepped off the train at Jodhpur station, and he greeted me with a big hug and such genuine friendliness that I was a bit shocked... I guess just a bit surprised that he even remembered me at all. Since I last saw him he had been totally renovating his hotel, the Blue House, a quiet guesthouse smack in the middle of Jodhpur's old blue-painted city. Our lovely room was decked out in carved sandstone (imported from Jaisalmer) and came complete with a private balcony, cable television and even an air conditioner... finally! We were so happy to have such luxurious surroundings (and cold air blowing on us) that we spent a few afternoons just lounging around the room.

Jodhpur's main attraction is the stunning Mehrangarh fort and we were blessed with a cool, cloudy afternoon to explore the fort, relatively free from other tourists... Coming home was now feeling more like a reality and we both were honestly relieved to know that London was only a few short days away. During our stay in Jodhpur, we shopped for saris for our Moms, hung out at the corner juice bar, jockied for a place in the queue at the post office, and prepared our bags for the final journey back to Delhi.

We boarded the train Saturday night, excited to be finally on our way... Like so many times before, we hustled past the crowds on the platform, boarded the train and found our seats, only to find them occupied by a large family traveling together... After a few confusing minutes, we found a conductor who quickly glanced at our tickets, tossed them back at me, and informed us that these tickets were no longer valid: they were for last night's train. Unsure of the date, we asked another conductor on the platform and realized that we had indeed missed our train the night before, and tonight's train was completely sold out. Rather than facing yet another terrible queue at the booking counters, we headed back to Manesh's guesthouse and presented him with our problem. As it turns out, seasonal floods were raging through Rajasthan. The dark clouds and monsoonal rains had caused massive delays and cancellations on the trains due to the tracks being washed out. Not sure whether or not to actually believe what we were being told (lying to tourists is a form of sport in India), we decided to just spend another night at the Blue House and figure out what to do in the morning.

At about midnight, I left a sleeping Paul to sneak downstairs and find Manesh. He was watching television, which was broadcasting images of washed out roads, flooded villages, and trains at a standstill in several feet of water... the monsoons had truly arrived in Rajasthan with disastrous effect. Manesh informed me that the night train from Jodhpur to Delhi hadn't made even made it 100 miles outside of town and was now stuck somewhere west of Jaipur. Faced with the need to make a very quick decision, I decided to finally trust Manesh and let him try to sort out our travel troubles. He switched the television channel to "Indian Idol," which was gut-bustingly hilarious to us both, and then proceed to call around town in an attempt to find us bus tickets to Delhi for following next morning. What he discovered was that every regularly scheduled bus was now completely sold out, due to train travel being cancelled throughout most of the region. After an hour or so, he suggested instead hiring a private car to drive us the 400+ miles back to Delhi, and since I was worried sick about missing our flight home, I soon decided this was the only option... or the only option that was presenting itself sitting in the dim light of Manesh's living room at 1am.

Manesh arranged for a sleepy-eyed, pyjama-clad money changer to come to the Blue House to help me cash yet another traveler's cheque, and by 2am, it was a done deal: a car would meet us at the hotel at 5am to make the 12-hour journey to Delhi. I crept upstairs to our room and caught about 3 hours of sleep before sneaking out of the guesthouse just before dawn. A small man chewing red betel nut was waiting for us next to his rusted out white Fiat sedan. We set off towards the rising sun and just about an hour outside of town, things were starting to look up for us. We had managed to make it out of Jodhpur and the idea of possibly being scammed for a few more bucks didn't seem to make much difference to either of us anymore.

Just as we sat back to enjoy the long ride, we were forced to a stop by a huge military blockade crossing the motorway. A young man in an army uniform approached the car and had a rather heated exchange with our driver; our driver told us in broken English that the main bridge was closed, as the river had burst its banks and had flooded the highway on the other side. He told us that the only chance to make it to Delhi was to take an additional 4-hour long detour, heading much further north to cross the river at another point. He then started feverishly encouraging us to return to Jodhpur and wait until the flooding has subsided... we simply weren't having it. We were both absolutely frantic to get the hell out of India once and for all and insisted that he take us to Delhi that very minute. I told him to quit wasting time and step on the accelerator. None of us were pleased with our forced detour, least of all our driver: he decided at that moment that we were not nice people and spent the rest of the 16 hour trip trying to ignore us.

We stopped only twice during the journey, one of the longest of my life... we were both purposely drinking as little as possible to prevent the need to make additional stops along the way. Once we arrived on the outskirts of Delhi, our driver acted as though he had NO IDEA where we were going and then reluctantly admitted to us that he had never even been to Delhi before and wasn't sure how to find our hotel. Soon, we found ourselves asking pedestrians walking along the side of the road how to find the city centre, and after quite a bit of asking, a professional older man with a briefcase said that he was going that direction and offered to give us directions in exchange for a ride. After about another hour of gridlock and chaos, we finally arrived at Old Delhi train station, right across the road from our hotel in the Paraganj market. Our driver took this opportunity to become really mopey and tell us that he would have to spend the night in his car and wouldn't set off back to Jodhpur until the morning... He kept insisting that we pay him an additional 1000 rupees for his trouble and to get a room for the night (when our own room for the night was only 600 rupees). Paul and I silently exchanged looks with each other in complete agreement that he wasn't getting another damn cent out of us, and while the driver was poking around in the car looking for something, we grabbed our stuff and disappeared into the crowd.

Having made a clean escape, we checked into our hotel, repacked once again (dumping all unnecessary items no longer required once back in England) and caught another 3 or 4 hours sleep before having to leave for the airport... We were both totally exhausted by the time we boarded our flight, glad to have made it out of India and to be finally be heading home. The end of our trip around the world wasn't exactly like we had envisioned it, but then again, what is?

I think it will take a few months of being back home to fully grasp the enormity of our year long adventure and regardless of the challenges that we now face getting our lives back together, it has always seemed worth it. Our relationship is stronger than ever, adding truth to the old cliche "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Next Entry: The Epilogue

Jaisalmer: On the Edge

One thing in India that seems to actually work properly is the train system, generally running with surprising efficiency. Although most of the trains are completely run down and the stations a heaving mess of humanity and livestock (and the subsequent filth produced by the two living so closely together), there was a calming sense of relief for me during our overnight train journeys: a brief respite from the chaos and craziness that seemed to surround us during our every move. The uniformed cabin attendants work with dignified pride, dishing out blankets, cold beer, and bottled water while middle-class passengers sit in (relative) air-conditioned comfort. We made the uneventful overnight journey from Delhi to Jaisalmer in just under 20 hours, and managed to make a friend along the way: Miko, a Japanese guy from Yokohama who was taking a year off from his executive desk job to travel around Asia.

Having already made a reservation at the Desert Boys guest house, we were met by our driver (and joined by Miko, who hadn't booked anything in advance) and taken directly to the Jaisalmer fort, which dominates the town... This place is unlike anything I have ever seen and undoubtedly deserves it's UNESCO listing as one of India's most treasured heritage sites... The people of Jaisalmer have lived inside the fort since the mid-1400's, when it's construction was started by one of the Mughal kings of the time... Intricately carved almost entirely out of limestone, it has to be seen to be believed: like something from an Arabian fairy tale. India, and in particular Rajasthan, is littered with forts from the same era, but Jaisalmer stands out as one of the very best: it stands perched at the top of a massive hillside, looking westward towards the Pakistani border, only 80km away, over an expanse of scrubby trees and sand dunes. At sunset, the view from the top of the fort is nothing short of sheer magic. From that back of our driver's rusting Jeep, our first view of the fort was met with gasps from all three of us.

We met the super friendly owner of the guest house who immediately offered us cold bottles of Coke and fizzy water, and we retreated to the darkest, innermost rooms of the building... the coolest place to sit and chat. The temperatures outside were nearing 46C/115F degrees and just the ride from the train station to the guest house left me in sort of a daze. Our room, which we were guaranteed would be air-conditioned, was actually "air-cooled" - a term I have never heard outside India. An air-cooler is simply a metal box containing a fan and a shallow pan of water: the fan blows air across the cold water to create a cool breeze... although the water wasn't cold and the air cooler felt more like a hair dryer. The staff at the hotel rushed around in a frenzy to try and accommodate us and make us more comfortable, but the fact of the matter was that the heat wasn't going to go away and nothing short of an air-conditioner was going to change the situation. The temperature in our room was absolutely sweltering; I cannot describe exactly how hot it felt to us at that moment. This was a theme to be repeated over and over again during the next 6 days in Jaisalmer: completely drowsy from heat stroke and exhausted by the efforts of everyone around us to sell something or provide some sort of unnecessary and unwanted service.

No trip to Jaisalmer would be complete without the obligatory "camel safari," a day long or overnight trip out to the sand dunes to ride camels and visit local villages. Although challenging due to the heat, this was one of the highlights of our entire time in India. We convinced Miko to come with us for the day, and including the English couple whom we spotted eating (and complaining about the food) at the same restaurant the previous evening, there were just 5 of us. Our driver was a fat, funny man who insisted his name was "Lemon Soda;" he quickly rounded us up into his Jeep for a long ride due west, straight into the heart of the desert.

We drove off-road a few times (although the road was little more than a dirt track), across the scrub of the desert, until we arrived at a tiny Muslim village in the absolute middle of nowhere. The villagers all came out to meet us, and it was apparent that Lemon Soda knew these people well and spoke their language (which was not Hindi). They were also incredibly friendly, which is not to be said about all Indians. They apparently did not want anything from us and made no attempts to ask for money, shine our shoes, sell us CDs, or lure us into a taxi. This was one of the most satisfying (and least voyeuristic) experiences I have ever had visiting "the locals" anywhere in the world and certainly wish that we would have had more time to spend with these lovely people. Their homes were adobe-style domes, constructed of camel dung and sticks, with a fire pit in the center. I couldn't believe how welcoming they were, inviting us inside to check it out. Wonderful!

After visiting three similar villages, we met up with several guys who were leading 5 camels towards us, which I correctly assumed were for us to ride. No real problems here and I was pleasantly surprised at how clean and manageable my camel was: I had imagined a flea-bitten, aggressive camel who would spit at me and run off into the distance... but as luck would have it, we actually got along quite well. We rode for about two hours (which is plenty, believe me) and then stopped while the guys prepared some dinner over an open fire... Our little group chilled on a large rug spread across the sand, watched the sun set, and enjoyed dahl and rice with roasted black cumin seeds... delicious!

Next time: Escaping Jodhpur x more soon! Jason

Bombay to Delhi

Maybe a better title is: "the road to hell is paved with good intentions..." like my intentions of LOVING India for the second time, and this time showing Paul all she has to offer: the Taj at sunrise, the Ganges, the Himalayas... and then finding ourselves standing on Main Street, Hell.

Although most of my memories of my last adventure through India only 2 years ago are fabulous to the extreme, what I remember most this time around are my feelings of anxiety and exhaustion, followed by heat stroke. Landing in Mumbai during the height of a muggy monsoon season set the tone for the entire Indian portion of our world trip: the entire city was practically shut down due intense rain and flash flooding. The roads didn't turn to rivers, but it was like driving through a shallow, muddy lake. We learned that the city's drainage systems are entirely clogged with rubbish and plastic shopping bags, causing us to spend our entire first evening in Bombay wading around through the filthiest knee-deep water imaginable. I did not know nor want to know what we were stepping in or on, all in search of an ATM that actually worked. Since the cash machines at the airport were shut down, a boy from the hotel led us through Colaba (the posh heart of India's financial capital) and after 6 attempts, we never found ONE that worked. The monsoon, he said. This massive city that is "poised to take over the world" doesn't seem poised to take over France by my standards. I've recently romanticized the city by reading too many travel guides, picturing grandiose Victorian architecture mixed with the wild colors and energy of India... what I did find was a dilapidated, smelly ruin from a colonial times, like a massive, wet rubbish tip dotted with grand architecture. Our hotel room facing the sea had damp, peeling wallpaper was falling apart.... all this for $60 USD a night. Bombay was an instant anti-climax and evoked a few entirely new feelings within me: complete impatience with all things Indian and an overwhelming desire to end the trip. Instead, we headed to Delhi.

We ran took the Rajdahni express overnight, and arrived at Old Delhi train station very early in the morning. I was actually looking forward the the air-conditioned train journey: the trains in India are one of the only things that seem to work or make sense. The sheer sense of pandemonium created by just being a red-headed westerner in Old Delhi station early in the morning hours has to be seen to be believed. Every move we made, from the absolute second we hit the platform, was countered by a huge range of touts, hustlers, and beggars. We couldn't shake our smelly, horribly dressed, unwanted entourage until we walked outside the main exit and now became surrounded by aggressive, shouting taxi drivers. "Where you going?" We proceeded directly through the crowds to the prepaid taxi desk, paid our 65 rupees, and then waived the coupon around for over a half an hour. Our desperate negotiations to try and find a taxi who would even take us caused arguments amongst all the drivers, presumably because we had the audacity to purchase a pre-paid ticket... I stormed in and out about 5 cabs trying to find a driver who only would accept my worthless, official-looking ticket, and then India simply got the best of me: I paid the additional 300% that is expected of me to one of the shouting men, finally released (in a whisper) the name of our hotel, and we were off.

We were desperate also to get out of Parajangh: Delhi's backpacker ghetto that is like a combination of a leper colony and a barnyard, with great outdoor shopping. Mortville, but Bollywood style. There is so much filth in the streets I left behind my shoes. Heaps of garbage, fruit peelings and cow dung standing rotting in front of every type of shop imaginable: from discount pharmacies to bridal shops; tshirt stands and greasy curry carts. The lack of hygiene isn't hidden, like in America: it's right there, in your lap. I felt queasy all the time, as if pregnant. Nothing much has changed around here in 2 years, but I felt almost guilty, as if something has changed in me... Why did I seem to hate India so much this time around?

While we were in Chiang Mai, I changed our tickets to fly Delhi-London a full month earlier than originally planned.... but it didn't take much for me to realize that I was now focusing almost entirely on the negative aspects of traveling in what is the dirtiest and most emotionally draining place I've ever been. I called British Airways and bumped our tickets back even further to return on 08 July... just 10 days time. I'll never regret making the call to "save India for later..." and honestly, I'm glad that I escaped just in time to have retained even the remotest interest in ever returning.

Over the next 10 days, we never ended up finding an ATM that worked with any of our cards... but it didn't seem to matter. Another 15-hour night train swept us from Delhi and planted us in a completely different environment... the middle of the Thar desert. Next: Jaisalmer.

Welcome to Chiang Mai!

Like any travel experience in the developing world, our time here in Chiang Mai sometimes seems to be reduced to a series of extreme highs and lows, with very little in between. We are either struggling or sailing right along beautifully. My amazing friend and fellow travel junkie Heather Mac recently sent me a hysterical email from Indonesia in which she contrasted a long list of simple daily activities in Jakarta, categorizing each of them as either easy or hard. This email somehow changed the way I've been perceiving our Chiang Mai experience and I'm now constantly adding things to my own internal list:

• Things that have been super-easy in Chiang Mai: finding a delicious iced coffee or pad Thai for about US$0.30; working through daily tasks at an impossibly slow and lazy pace; chatting with people about nothing; kicking back at the English-language cinema; haggling over the price of fresh mangoes at the fruit market; finding internet access at 2am; making loads of cool friends.


• Things that have been super-difficult in Chiang Mai: riding a bicycle without being run over, hit by a motorbike speeding down the wrong side of the road, bitten by a street dog, or falling in a massive pothole; walking down the street without being run over, hit by a motorbike speeding down the wrong side of the road, bitten by a street dog or falling in a massive pothole; finding a fresh salad that has been washed with purified water; avoiding mosquito bites at all times of day; not becoming angry and impatient because everyone around me seems to be moving at an excruciatingly slow pace; finding a restaurant that is open after 9pm.

The obvious negatives aside, Chiang Mai has been a really fantastic place to hang out for a month and in a short amount of time, we've managed to develop a rather tight little group of friends... Paul and I both decided to enroll in a Thai Massage certification course from the International Training Massage School and although the course itself was really interesting and inspiring, the biggest benefit of my time spent here has been getting to know the truly interesting people also enrolled on the course. We've had no shortage of companionship the past few weeks, a very welcome change from feeling a bit isolated: changing cities every few days is not very conducive to forming friendships.

Our time at ITM was a eye-opening experience and I really enjoyed learning more about Thai Massage... an art that could take a lifetime to perfect. I feel as though it will really help me in my Pilates teaching.

One major challenge during our month here has been in the form of my super nasty and annoying leg injury... While climbing off a motorcycle taxi soon after we arrived, I severely burned my calf on the scorching-hot exhaust pipe: I quite literally heard, felt, and smelt my leg burning simultaneously. The resulting wound has been an ongoing source of frustration, as it's made walking around, showering, and other everyday activities a giant pain in the ass.... well, in the leg. Now it is finally on the mend thanks to Rachel's over-the-phone nursing advice...

We are off to Mumbai (formerly Bombay) on Sunday and it's hard to believe our time here is coming to an end... We are now in the final weeks of the trip! India awaits and I am getting excited to be in this new and hyper-stimulating environment. x More soon. Jason

More photos of Laos...

I just really liked these few additional photos from our time in Luang Prabang... So different from any other place we've experienced in Southeast Asia... and I can't wait to return!

I keep asking other western travelers in Thailand: "Have you been to Laos yet?"

x Jason

All the facts...

Howdy from Chiang Mai! We have just solidified some new dates for our trip and it looks like we might be heading back to the UK just a bit earlier than planned!

Paul has secured some teaching work in both Edinburgh and London during the month of August, which means we'll be departing for the UK from New Delhi on Saturday, 14 July... just about a full month ahead of schedule!

We are both anxious to get home and also very excited about the opportunity to live in Edinburgh (during the amazing Edinburgh Festival) for a full month: we've decided to rent a flat in the city centre from 21 July through the end of August... although I'll be returning to Kansas on the 21st of August. Paul will be working at Holmes' Place Edinburgh through August 27th, and then departing for London to present for Body Control's summer program.

We are really enjoying our time here in Chiang Mai... photos to come! x More soon. Jason

Luang Prabang: Jewel of the Mekong

Ask anyone who's been here: Luang Prabang, Laos is indisputably THE place to be. It's no wonder that the world is slowly starting to wake up and realize that Laos' historical center and the former capital city of French Indochina is a hot travel destination... In my opinion, there are two main reasons that L.P. has retained it's unique brand of lazy, crazy cool:

1) It's really hard to get here. Well, maybe not anymore, now that Bangkok Airways have started to operate non-stop daily flights from Thailand... but until very recently, the only way to get to Luang Prabang was either on the bus from Vang Viene (8 hours of hairpin turns... be sure to skip breakfast for this one) or on a slow boat down the Mekong from the northern Thai border (a grueling two-day experience... Paul did this trip 3 years ago and was not terribly eager to repeat the adventure). Unwilling to pursue either of these options, most two-week Western vacationers have left Luang Prabang off their Southeast Asian itineraries... helping the town to retain it's sleepy, backwater charm.

The second reason I believe this amazing city hasn't become totally played out:

2) There's no major sites, ruins, cathedrals, or other attention-grabbing landmarks. Tourists love ancient ruins and burned-out Gothic churches; iconic architectural images that photograph well for tourism posters. These types of attractions draw in huge numbers of visitors and can quickly turn an "off the beaten path" destination into a major tourist hub (ie: Siem Reap, Cambodia).

Luang's charm isn't tied specifically to one big attraction, but in the myriad tiny details around every corner. I imagine that the unbelievably well-preserved historical center looks very much the same as it did when the French begun building here about 150 years ago, and having been recently declared a UNESCO World Heritage Sight has helped to provide the funding to keep Luang Prabang looking immaculate. Beautiful wooden shopfronts have been converted into quaint bed and breakfasts; glittering Buddhist temples dot the city; fishermen continue to sleepily cast their nets across the muddy water; the silk and antique markets retain a flavor of old colonial France and yet are still completely Laotian.

The lack of mass tourism here has also had a distinct effect on its citizens, or maybe more of a lack of an effect: once again, I've found that there is none of the aggressive, demanding, and nasty behavior towards visitors that is so prevalent in Thailand's big tourist destinations... the Lao people continue to be gracious, humble, kind, and in a word: wonderful.

I only hope that daily flights from Bangkok don't squash the vibe here... but I can't worry about that, so I'll just continue to kick back, enjoy another sunset over the Mekong, and sip my coconut shake... More soon. x Jason